


See You In Sedona

by Marshmellow Bobcat (MellowBobcat)



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon Smut, Smut, Smut from Sedona Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 05:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/pseuds/Marshmellow%20Bobcat
Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Logan Echolls-Mars enjoy their honeymoon. Smut. And some plot. Just a tiny bit. And some romance, because honeymoon. But mostly smut.





	See You In Sedona

At 0100 hours, a ringtone blares in the darkness of the Echolls-Mars honeymoon cottage, startling Logan awake. 

Grateful for the moonlight streaming through the panoramic windows, he props up on an elbow and leans over to hastily navigate the contents of his nightstand.

In the process, he manages to knock over a vase of decorative yellow tulips. 

_ "Shit,” _he swears as he snatches up the phone and squints at the screen. 

_ Wife _

The grin that spreads across his face is probably a _ little _ too stupidly happy for a man who is alone in bed, on his own honeymoon, but what can you do. 

“Lieutenant Logan Echolls-Mars, at your service, ma’am.” 

“Well, that sounds promising, sailor.” Comes the amused reply. 

He lays back, staring up at the wooden slats, imagining her doing the same, gazing at the popcorn ceiling of their bedroom back in Neptune. 

“Hey, Babe. I miss you.” 

“It’s only been a couple of days.” 

Logan’s face softens. It’s not the words. They’re irrelevant. It’s the gentleness in her tone that says “I miss you, too;” the spaces between the words that say “I love you.” He craves her more now, when she’s only a few hours away, than he did when there was a world between them. 

But, technically, she’s right, it _ has _ only been two days. Two long days. 

It’s his own fault for taking his wife’s “favor for friends” approach to life and agreeing to help out a military buddy on the Naval base in Tucson while he was in Arizona. 

Rather than have Veronica tag along and—let’s be honest—to keep her from snooping, he convinced her it would be boring. Better for her to stay back in Neptune, tying up loose ends with her own cases. It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

But two days ago they were married in the Balboa County Courthouse, and every improbable fantasy he’s had since he was 12 came true. 

Now, he’s sulking because his wife isn’t next to him, chasing his calves with inexplicably cold toes and tickling his chest with wayward strands of silky hair. 

Logan sighs. “When do you get here? I barely remember what you look like.” 

“1300 hours, Lieutenant.” She purrs it, and need spikes through him.

_ Too fucking long. _

He drops his voice an octave, “I don’t remember what you taste like either, Veronica.” 

“Oh, I doubt that, Logan.” She chuckles low, and the sound skims along his nerve endings, wraps around his cock as it springs to life. He throws the comforter off, exposing his nude body to the cool air. 

Trailing his fingers down his chest, he follows the contours of his body to the patch of curls at the base of his shaft, rakes the hair there. Teases himself while he talks. 

“It’s true,” he insists. “I’m going to have to spend the entire week reacquainting myself.” 

“A week, huh?” 

The huskiness in her voice sends goosebumps over his skin. He squeezes the base of his cock and holds back a moan.

“Yup. A week. To remember how wet you get when I play with your nipples. How I lick and suck _ almost _every inch of skin until you’re begging me.”

Her breathing is low, ragged, and he licks his palm, starts jerking off in long, slow strokes.

“How your breath catches when I finally drag my tongue across your swollen clit.”

As she inhales sharply, he thumbs his tip, drags precum down, hastens his strokes. His heart is racing, but he keeps his tone smooth and low.

“And the minute you come on my tongue, I slide into you while you’re still coming so you’re pulsing around my cock, fucking you until you come again, screaming my name.”

_ Shit. _ He’s going to make _ himself _come like this. 

He pauses to collect himself and in the space he hears soft noises forming in the back of her throat. His lip quirks up. Looks like he’s not the only one close. 

When Veronica replies it sounds carefully restrained. “Someone’s sure of himself.” 

His smirk deepens. “Baby. Where are your hands?”

A beat of silence. Two. In his mind’s eye, he can see the stubborn set to her jaw, the narrowed eyes. His girl doesn’t give an inch. Then her breath shudders out. “Where your mouth should be.” 

_ Fuck. _He wants nothing more than to make good on his promise and replace her fingers with his tongue. Make her hold her pussy open for him so he can see the wedding band on her finger while he laps at her clit. Logan groans. 

“Where are _ your _hands, sailor?” 

“Where your mouth should be.” 

“Baby, when I see you I’m going to fuck your brains out.” Her throaty laugh makes him shiver. 

_ Jesus. _

His hand drops away from his cock so he doesn’t spill right there. He strokes his abs, circles his nipples, tracing the path her mouth likes to take when she has him flat on his back. 

“So. What are you wearing?” 

She giggles at him, _ giggles _, and his affection for her rises to the surface. His urgency ebbs, slightly. A lot of people love their wives, but how many can say they genuinely like them?

When she answers him there’s a hint of amusement under the velvet tone, “I’m wearing your favorite outfit.” 

_ Which means she’s wearing nothing. _Who needs lingerie when you have Veronica? The trappings just get in the way.

A dormant fantasy wiggles to the forefront of his mind. They’ve never had a chance to do this, what with the extreme lack of privacy on navy vessels and military monitored communications and all. 

He sits up, propping pillows behind his back so he can recline. “Show me.”

Her response is the distinctive trill of a video call coming in, and he almost fumbles the phone in his excitement.

_ Get your shit together, Lieutenant Echolls-Mars. You fly fighter jets in war zones for god sakes. _

He accepts the call with military precision. “Hi, Baby.” 

Her flushed face fills the screen, the camera has a slight tremble, and he knows she hasn’t stopped touching herself. 

_ Fuck. _

“Logan…” his name stretches out on a labored breath. 

His balls tighten, the throbbing of his cock verges on painful. He wraps his fist around it, and pumps slowly. 

“Show me, Veronica. I need to see you.” 

There’s a clatter and the screen tilts, until their bed comes into view. The angle suggests she set the phone up on her nightstand. 

She plops down on the blue sheets, stretches out on her side to face him. He can’t stop staring at the strawberry birthmark on her hip bone. Imagines scraping his teeth over it while he finger fucks her. 

“You too.” 

He does the same, turning on the bedside light, picking up the vase he tipped over to prop up his phone. 

When he lays facing her she’s idly sliding her middle finger through her folds, waiting. He can see the moisture on her thighs, and his mouth tingles. He licks his lips.

“You’re so wet, Veronica.” He teases gently. “What were you thinking about?”

He cups his balls, then moves higher, mimicking her pace, running his thumb over the head on the upstroke, squeezing hard on the down. 

“You. Us. Two days ago, right before you left for Arizona.” By the time she finishes the sentence she’s on her back, fingers flying, and the words are choppy. “Do you remember?” 

Of course he fucking remembers. It’s been on steady rotation in his brain for two days. 

“Yeah.” He manages, stroking himself faster, losing himself in the memory of her taste, her scent, her mouth. _ Of her. _

“What happened?” She demands as she presses into the furious movements of her fingers. “Tell me.”

“You got on your knees and.. _ God, baby… _ started sucking me... while you… fingered yourself...”

“Like this?” She pants, but she’s not even looking at him. Her back is arching off the bed, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress.

Transfixed, he moans. “Just like that, Veronica.” 

He’s so close. Can’t speak past his gasping breaths. 

Voice trembling, body straining for release, she picks up the story. 

“Then you bent me over our dresser… _ fuck, baby... _ told me to watch in the mirror while you... _ oh God... _fucked your wife from behind.”

_ Jesus. _

“_Gonna_ _come...can’t..._Then what, Logan.” She gasps.

_ “ _ You… _ ” Shit. _ His brain scrambles to latch onto a coherent thought. “You, came all over my cock… and I... _ fuck, Veronica… _” 

His vision blurs as he comes, spilling warm and wet over his hand like a fucking teenager. _ How has it been 20 years and she still makes him feel like a teenager? _

He huffs out a laugh as he stretches for the tissues on the opposite nightstand, and cleans himself up, trying to calm his racing heart. 

“Then what, husband?” Her voice is drowsy, satisfied. 

He turns back to face her. She’s curled up on her side, a hand pillowed under her cheek, small smile on her lips. She’s sleepy, and perfect, and his. His wife. 

His heart clenches as he reaches for the phone to trace the lines of her cheek with his fingertips. Even after all this time the words are still rare. 

“Then you said, I love you, Lieutenant Echolls-Mars. I’ll see you in Sedona.” 

* * *

At 0700 Logan jogs back towards their cottage, wiping at his brow. It was a good run until he detoured to the main lobby for water. There, the handsy concierge on duty waylaid him. His own fault for not wearing a shirt. 

After five minutes of her yammering about morning classes, he ended up walking away mid sentence. Who gives a fuck about 9am Goat Yoga? He didn’t book this resort for the _ amenities. _He booked it because it had private cottages and room service. 

When Veronica shows up, they’re not leaving the room for a week. That’s the only reason he agreed to Sedona. It might be beautiful but it shouldn’t be too hard to talk her out of sightseeing. Try that with the Louvre. 

At the door of his secluded dwelling, he swipes the keycard to enter the sitting area, and stops in his tracks. 

The air feels wrong. Unsettled. _ Someone’s here. _

He considers the very unsanctioned “mission” he just completed in Tucson, contemplates the gun he has tucked away in the room. Then he remembers the unpredictability of his wife, and decides his body is weapon enough. 

With innate grace honed by years of avoiding belts, and perfected by the Navy, he stealthily moves through the sitting area towards the master suite. 

He spies Veronica’s suitcase on the floor by the door, and his heart leaps. _ She’s early. _

He enters the room fully, and smiles to see her nestled under the comforter, head buried in a pillow. She must be exhausted. She had to have driven all night to get here early. He should let her rest. 

Never fully peaceful, even in sleep, Veronica makes an unconscious grunt of annoyance and kicks off the cover, turning onto her back, 

She’s wearing his favorite outfit. 

He’s been half hard since he woke up, just from thinking about last night and anticipating 1300, but now his cock surges to life. He needs to touch her. 

He shucks his athletic shorts and briefs. 

Logan approaches the bed. He pauses, takes a moment to look at her, drink her in. Sleepy, and perfect. And his. 

He ignores his aching cock in favor of slow seduction.

He’s on extended leave, and for the first time in a while, they have time. More than he’d hoped for because now there’s a ring on her finger and she promised him forever. 

Veronica doesn’t break her promises. 

Kneeling on the foot of the bed, he lifts her foot, scrapes his teeth lightly over her ankle bone. He runs the pads of his fingers over her calves, barely touching her skin and she shivers, but doesn’t wake. 

Moving higher he tongues the sensitive skin behind her knees as he feathers small circles at her hips with his thumbs. 

Her breathing pattern changes, but she doesn’t give any indication that she’s awake. 

He raises a brow. His wife isn’t known for her patience. Exhibit A—her arrival 6 hours ahead of schedule. 

He starts a mental count. 

_ One. _He replaces his thumbs with his mouth, finds his favorite birthmark, nibbles at it, and her hips twitch in his direction.

_ Two. _ He scratches light patterns on the inside of her thighs. She sighs, barely perceptible, and her legs fall open. She’s already so wet he has to take a breath so he doesn’t just push her thighs apart and devour her. Instead, he licks the seam of her pussy, careful not to delve too deep, avoiding her clit.

_ Thr— _She grabs the back of his head and pushes his face into her, arching towards him, grinding against his mouth. 

He adjusts, draws her clit into his mouth, sucks at it while she writhes under him. She bucks against him, legs spread, the mewing sounds at the back of her throat grow louder, but it’s not enough. He needs more. Needs to be surrounded by her, lose himself in her. 

Logan pulls away and her groan of protest dies as he flips onto his back and pulls her with him so she’s on top, then he positions her pussy over his mouth. She’s going to ride his face before she rides his cock.

“Hold on,” he instructs gruffly, eyebrows indicating the headboard, and his cock jumps at the dark, glittering look she sends him. Then she grips the headboard and rocks her pussy against his face. 

_ Fuck yes. _

He teases her entrance, curling his tongue inside, sliding up to latch on to her clit. He loves the feel of it, swollen and hard, as he rolls his tongue around it, loves the uninhibited sounds she makes when he gets a good rhythm. 

He squeezes her ass, encouraging her to take over. 

Veronica takes her cue, thrusting over him, pleasuring herself on his tongue. Her legs tighten around him, and she rubs against him with such enthusiasm he almost comes from that alone.

“Fuck, Logan. Just like that, baby.” Her unbridled response goes straight to his cock. He loves her like this. Completely unselfconscious _ and the way she fucking tastes... _

He moans into her flesh and it sends her over the edge. She cries out, pressing down hard, suffocating him. He barely registers the lack of air as he ruthlessly licks her through her orgasm. 

Legs trembling, she moves to disengage but he holds her up, forcing her in place. He laps at her pussy, gently nipping and sucking every inch of the sensitive flesh, cleans the wetness from her thighs, while she shivers above him. 

Gently, he places her next to him and sits up, his back against the headboard, smugly eyeing her flushed skin and trembling body. He opens his mouth, but before he can deliver a brilliant quip on his own talents, she straddles him, and his body tenses, ready for her. 

He sucks in a breath as she positions him at her entrance, hisses when she takes him in. _ Fucking finally. _

As if she senses the urgency in him, she leans back and stops. Then she _ smirks _ at him. 

Everything in him screams to take control. He wants her screaming into the mattress while he fucks her from behind. He wants her bouncing on his dick and babbling incoherently while he comes inside her. 

He growls and thrusts up into her. 

She tsks, slapping his chest. “Be good.”

“Oh, I’m good.” He winks, but commands his body to still, hands fisting the sheets at his side. He loves her like this too. Confident, in control. Bossy.

The smirk never leaves her face as Veronica rises up on him, then in an excruciatingly slow motion engulfs him in her slick heat, repeats, leisurely jerking him off with her pussy, the maddening pace keeping him just on the edge of orgasm. 

“Veronica,” he whimpers. He knows he does. But, fuck, if he’s not two seconds away from begging. 

She takes pity on him, gripping the back of his neck with both hands, riding him with earnest. 

_ Thank fucking Christ. _

His hands span her small waist and he spurs her on, making sure her clit slides, slick and wet, against his body. 

She throws her head back, breathing loud and fast. 

His balls tighten, his brain is stuttering, about to blank to a stop. He needs her to come. 

He wraps her hair around his fist, and bites down on the soft skin between her neck and shoulder as he surges into her. 

She comes with a keening wail, and he gives in, senses contracting, then expanding, exploding as he comes, crying out her name. 

They cling, panting against each other, until their shudders subside to pleasurable flutters. 

With a laugh he shifts them on the bed so she’s laying flush on top of him. 

Veronica grins down at him. “Hi.” 

“Hi, Wife.” Logan raises his chin up to kiss her nose. “Welcome to Sedona.” 


End file.
